The Devil's God Daughter
by martykate
Summary: Long ago, before he came to England, Dracula lived in his castle in Romania. In the tradition of one family, the Strelnikov's, he was guarded faithfully, even unto death. Now Tatiana Strelnikova has found her father murdered, and must turn to the one man who will take her in without question, Alexander Grayson, aka, her godfather Count Dracula
1. Chapter 1

The door knocker sounded—three insistent taps. Renfield did not understand why someone should be knocking at the door. Certainly his master was not expecting anyone. He'd had a late night and was sleeping through the afternoon, though Renfield has closed all the drapes.

Tap tap tap. There it was again. I won't go away, it said, I will stay here until you answer me.

Renfield paused. He didn't want the knocking to disturb his master, so he went to the door, looking out the window to catch a glimpse of who was there.

He opened the door cautiously. "Yes, may I help you?" He asked in a manner that indicated he did not intend to be any more helpful then he need be. You do not belong here, so you may as well go away, the tone of his voice said, you are wasting your time and mine.

The young woman who stood there was not intimidated by him. Though her traveling dress was well made, the material was of a low quality and her portmanteau was old and scuffed. Still, she held herself in a manner that said plainly that he did not intimidate her and she would not be here if she did not have reason. Renfield found himself somewhat impressed by her self confidence and her determination.

"I have come to see Count Vladimir Dracul." Her voice had a soft Slavic accent, not unpleasing. Renfield shuddered as he heard the name. No one was supposed to know the true name of his master, let alone ask for him.

He held the door only partially open, unsure of what he should do, when he heard his master say, "Renfield, let her in. We are old friends. Hello Tatiana, when I left you were just a child and now you are all grown up!" Renfield opened the door to admit her, taking her portmanteau, even though he would rather leave it, and her, outside.

Grayson tightened his dressing gown as he came down the stairs, then held out his arms. The girl ran into them, holding him tight. "Oh, god father, how I have missed you," then burst into tears.

"There, there," he said softly, "Tell me what is wrong and we will see what we can do to make it right." He looked at Renfield and said, "She will need a brandy, please bring the VSOP and two glasses. And you must find a room for her, pick one that is light and sunny."

Grayson guided her to a chair and took the glass of brandy Renfield had poured and put it in her hand. "Now, my dear, tell me what is wrong. You know I will do all in my power to make it right."

She took a long drink of the brandy, then looked at him. "Papa is dead. They say he died in a hunting accident, but I don't believe it. Though they could not prove it they thought he was…" She looked hesitantly at Renfield.

"It's all right," Grayson soothed her, "He knows, he is in my confidence."

"It has long been suspected that he was your protector, though of course they could prove nothing. They knew nothing! When you fled to America, or so we thought you did, we hoped that the rumors would die down and they would leave us alone. Papa was ever cautious, and he had me keep a packed case and a stash of gold coins out of the money you left us so that I could flee if anything happened."

"For a long time we thought we were safe, we even began to live normally again, not always looking over our shoulders. Then, Papa had a craving for pheasant, and decided to go hunting. When he had not come back by dark, I knew something was wrong, but did not dare go out until it was light. They brought his body the next day, saying that his gun has misfired, and the bullet discharged itself through his forehead. As if I would believe something like that."

"A week later I woke up to find the body of a male goat with its throat slit lying on my porch. I waited until dark then grabbed my bag and ran to the main road, and walked until I came to a village with a small inn. The next morning I caught a coach to Budapest, and from there caught a train to Calais where I made the crossing to England."

"Papa always said that if I ever needed help I should seek you out and let you know. The funeral and my trip has used up almost all of my money. When I saw article about you in one of the society columns and saw the name 'Grayson' I was not so sure. Then I looked again and knew it was you. Godfather, I feel like I am a hindrance and I should not have come to you, but I had nowhere else to go. You were always so good to Papa and I. No child could ever have a better godfather. I come to you because I am afraid of what they will do to me in Romania—I heard some of the villagers say I should be burnt at the stake because of who I was."

"Now let's hear none of that," Grayson said. "You will live here as long as you like, or longer. But you must remember that my name is Alexander Grayson now. Vlad Dracul does not exist. You are now my niece Tania who was brought up in Romania. You must beware, though, there is a hunter named Lady Jane who is tracking me, and she will try her best to gather information from you."

"I would die, godfather, before I would allow that to happen."

"Now, now, you must call me Uncle Alex from now on. I know how clever you are, I am sure you will be able to act your part. In the meantime, we must have the have the dressmaker over to make you a wardrobe. I know two delightful young ladies who I am sure will love you. Mina Murray and Lucy Westenra will take you under their wing, I am sure. You need not hide where you are from—Romania will make you seem strange and exotic. If you are still fluent in French, that will impress people. That your father died and you came to me to see if I would take you in is a perfect cover. It will be as it was in the old days before I left Romania. Do we have a deal, as the Americans would say?"

"Yes," she said delightedly and threw her arms around his neck. He held her close, remembering the little honey haired girl with blue eyes who was never afraid of him, or the ghosts in his castle. Her disarming manner would serve as a perfect foil. By necessity she had grown up deceptive, her ability to keep a secret was unquestionable. Even Lady Jane would not know what to think, perhaps she would even be jealous.

He grieved for Tania's father, for he had always been loyal and alert, but his death had sent his daughter to him. Now she would play the game she always had, and best of all, he had an ally who was not only loyal, but loved him unreservedly.


	2. Chapter 2

She suddenly slumped in his arms and fainted.

"My god," he said, "How many meals did you skip? Renfield!" he called, "Prepare luncheon for her, and bring a glass of strong red wine."

He lay her on the sofa, removing her bonnet and boots. Her soft white throat lay exposed, beckoning him. She would have gladly given him her blood, as would any of the Strelnikovs before her. He must make sure she did not make that sacrifice.

He sat next to her, patting her gently on the cheeks calling, "Tatiana, Tatiana", until she opened her eyes.

She sat up with a start. "Where am I?" She asked frantically, "Boyar," she said in Romanian, "How did I get here?"

He shook his head. Renfield had brought in the luncheon cart, and he poured her a large glass of spring water. "Drink this, Tatiana," he said, and she took the glass and emptied it. In the mean time, he filled her a plate with chicken, fresh baked bread and butter, and fruit, and stood over her like a father until she finished."

"How long has it been since you ate, Tatiana? Two days? No? Three?"

"Close to three." she said slowly, "I had to conserve my money, in case I could not find you or you turned me away. I did not know what I was going to do. My only education came from the convent, and how could I say to anyone that my greatest talent is that I am a skilled assassin? I did not want to leave Romania, but I was alone, and fearful that I would find myself burnt at the sake for the only crime of being a Strelnikov."

Grayson laughed though he knew it was not funny. "You Strelnikovs, you are loyal to a fault when it would suit you better to lie and save your own skin. Never did I have better protectors. I could no longer trust my own people, even my own tribe after that witch found me on the battlefield. She promised me eternal life while I was dying, little did I know what that would entail."

"I am sorry," she said, "That your misfortune saved my ancestors when they were fleeing from the Ivan the Terrible, but we pledged eternal loyalty to you, because of our gratitude. Uncle, I do not think that I am here by accident, or by the whim of God. You have enemies, you have always had enemies, it is my duty to kill them for you."

He poured her a glass of red wine. "But you must forget all of that for now. This is England, not Romania. You would find it harder to conceal your crime and dispose of a body." He shushed her as she opened her mouth to object. "I would find it far more useful if you would use your skills to get that pretty little nose into places it does not belong. Since you are Romanian there are some who might think that you have fled the terrors in Romania to seek safety in England. You have always been a clever girl, you should have no trouble convincing them to believe you."

"Except for my family name. The Order of the Dragon—yes, I know of them—will recognize my name. There are not many Russians in Romania and my family name is known for having served the Draculas. Would that not put me under the shadow of suspicion? And, Uncle, I will not give up my name, I come from a long and noble lineage."

"Are you clever enough to avoid putting you or myself in danger?

To answer she knelt at his feet. "I have not sworn my blood oath to you." She put her hand over her heart, and looked up at him earnestly. "I, Tatiana Victoria Strelnikova, so pledge my life and honor to Vlad Dracul, my lord and Boyar. Let loyalty be rewarded, and treachery punished without mercy. So say I."

She took the bread knife, and sliced across her wrist. "Drink, my lord," she said, and he put his mouth on the wound and began to drink deeply of her sweet, young, hot blood, until he had to force himself to stop. He took his handkerchief and bound up the wound, knowing what had just occurred was very serious to her. How many times over the centuries had Strelnikovs knelt before him to do this very thing?

"Now, my lord, or my uncle, I ask permission to kill this Lady Jane Wetherby since she is a danger to you."

"Not until you have my say so," he answered, "When the time comes and she is no longer useful, or is a danger to me and you, then we will kill her together, for I would save that privilege for myself."

"As you wish, my beloved Boyar, it will be as you say, upon pain of my death." She sat back on the couch, and drank the glass of red wine he handed her. "But I would rather kill her sooner than later." The smile she gave him was disarming.

Lady Jane Wetherby was to visit him tonight, what should he do about Tatiana? It would not do to have the hunter find out about her too soon, yet he would like to allow some time to be sure of Tania's well being. So, taking a chance he penned a note to Lady Jane:

My dear Lady Wetherby

My niece, Tania Strelnikov from Romania has recently arrived in London and I have taken her in. The poor child has lost both mother and father and I am now all she has.

I must, regretfully, cancel our engagement tonight. Tania will require my attentions for a while, but as soon as she recovers her strength, I will introduce her to Miss Mina Murray and Miss Lucy Westenra so that they may show her which places young people like to frequent in this city, and help her plan her new wardrobe—my poor dear arrived with only two wretched dresses, a situation that I intend to remedy.

Until such time as I am able to see you again, which I trust will be soon, I remain yours faithfully

Alexander Greyson

To Mina and Lucy he wrote letters informing them of the arrival of his niece in London. She was only able to bring along an inadequate wardrobe, so if they could loan her one or two gowns, he was sure that his niece would be appreciative. Not three hours later a trunk arrived, along with a maid, full of all sorts of gowns, dressings and fripperies a maiden could wish for. The maid informed him that she would stay as long as she was needed. Her mother was Mrs. Westernra's maid and she had been trained to be a lady's handmaid. It would be her pleasure to help his niece until she acquired servants of her own.

He was touched by the kindness of the two girls. Lucy Westenra, he was sure, had more clothes than she ever would need and some of the gowns she had sent had only been worn once or twice. Tatiana was delighted. She had never had access to such a lady's wardrobe before, not to mention the delicate and lacy underthings and stockings that had been sent along. The maid, Mary Smith, assisted her with bathing and then did her hair much more stylishly than the plain chignon she'd worn. The pale green gown she put on complimented her hair and skin, and Grayson was surprised to see that his Tania was not just a pretty girl, but a beauty in disguise.

Lucy had also included a letter asking that Miss Strelnikov accompany them to lunch the next day. Grayson was pleased that the two girls were so accommodating. This would assure Tania an easy introduction into London society, and enable her to begin the task she had set out for herself: to find out the names of the members of the Order of the Dragon group Lady Wetherby was associated with. All Grayson wanted from her was names and information, the rest he preferred to take care of himself. He would have to wait and see if this would happen.

A knock sounded at the door. He was expecting no callers—he did not receive visitors this early. Renfield answered the door, and Lady Jane Wetherby strode into the parlor.

"I am so sorry, but I wanted to inquire after your niece. I know I am being forward, but I simply could not wait to meet her. I do hope that you did not mind Alexander." Her smile was false and full of artifice, but Tatiana was equal to the occasion.

She walked over to where Lady Jane stood, and for just a moment said and did nothing. Then she extended her hand, "I am Tatiana Victoria Strelnikova, and whom do I have the pleasure of addressing?"

Lady Wetherby took her hand. "I am Lady Jane Wetherby, a friend of your, ah, uncle. I did not know that Mr. Grayson," she emphasized the name, "Had any close relatives."

Tania was unfazed. "My father married his sister, then they returned to his native Romania, where I was born."

"But your name, Strelnikov, that is certainly not Romanian."

Lady Wetherby was searching for information, but Tatiana had been prepared for the question.

"My paternal family was Russian. They took refuge in Romania fleeing persecution from Ivan the Terrible. Until they were able to afford an estate of their own, they served the local boyars. They did not find Romania a hardship, on the contrary they came to love it and never returned to Russia."

The two assassins stood and faced each other. Lady Jane did not know what to think of the girl in front of her, but guessed there was more to her than met the eye. Grayson certainly kept a protective eye on her, and she did not know if they were lovers or what. Whatever she was, Lady Jane sensed a threat. She knew nothing of the Strelnikovs, but she was certain that Grayson never had a sister, let alone a niece.

"Well my dear," she said with another fake smile on her face, "I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I am sure we will be seeing much of each other when you recover. Thank you Alexander, for humoring me and allowing to make her acquaintance so soon."

Grayson bowed his head and Renfield showed her out.

"Uncle, if she is your lover, which she all but told me she was, I think you could do much better. Are you sure you won't let me kill her? 


	3. The Revealing--Chapter 3

This is my version of how Ilona Dracul died—only a speculation, mind you.

Despite her many protests., Mary put Tatiana to bed after her supper on Grayson's orders, He slipped a five pound note into her hand, saying, "Please watch Tatiana and make sure she stays in bed. Give her some laudanum if you need to, but she is not to leave her bed or this house. If you have any problems, tell Renfield, and he will know where to find me." He slipped a bottle into her hand, which she put in her pocket. She bobbed a curtsey and returned to brush her young mistress' hair.

After he dressed for the evening, Grayson came to Tania's room with an armful of books. "Perhaps you won't hate me so much if you have something to read," he said with false cheerfulness. He sat on the bed beside her and showed her what he'd brought: "The Three Musketeers" and "Count of Monte Cristo", "The Hunchback of Notre Dame", "Ivanhoe", and "Last of the Mohicans".

She smiled at him, and he tried to not let it catch him off guard. "Tania, you must promise to obey me. I don't need you to trail Lady Wetherby for me, I already have someone doing that. We'll find out about the Order of Dragon soon enough. What I want you to do is to regain your strength, and when you have done that, I want you to insinuate yourself into society." He paused for a moment, wondering how to say what he wanted to next. "You must keep in mind that, as you said, the Order of the Dragon may know about your family. If they do, we are both in danger and we may have to flee."

"Strong in mind, strong in body, that's what father used to say. All right uncle, it shall be as you say, only I think you make a mistake with my lady Wetherby. She recognized what I was when we met, and I think we saw two kindred spirits with two different objects in mind. Once she no longer has use for you, she will attempt to kill you."

Grayson kissed her forehead. "And that is precisely why I wish you to be discreet and careful. We will kill her when the time comes, never fear," he lied, but was it to her or himself? There was an attraction there that could not be denied, even though his soul longed to steal the lovely Mina from Harker and make her his.

"Good night, my darling," he told her, and closed the door to her room.

Mary watched him leave, then took the bottle out of her pocket. She knew about laudanum, knew what it could do. Mr. Grayson had all but told her she should give his niece some tonight so that she might fall asleep and stay asleep. She thought for a moment, then slipped down to the kitchen.

The stove was still hot. Filling a pan with milk, she put it onto the stove, adding some honey and cinnamon, along with a few drops of opium, which experience had taught her was all that was needed. She then watched carefully to make sure the milk didn't boil. She then poured the mixture into a cup, adding a couple more drops of laudanum for good measure.

The task finished, she walked carefully up stairs to avoid spilling the narcotic mixture. "Here, miss," she said cheerfully, "Some nice hot milk with honey and cinnamon. Just the thing to help you have a good night's sleep."

She stood over Tatiana and made sure she consumed the whole cup. Then she plumped the pillows and pulled up the covers. "There," she said cheerfully, "You just relax now and get a good night's sleep. You'll feel so much better tomorrow." She blew out the candle and left her young mistress, certain that she had earned more than the five pounds.

The opium made Tania feel as if she were falling down a deep well. She plunged deeper and deeper into a narcotic sleep, dreamless at first, then images began to form. Soon she was back in Romania, in the Dracula's castle on the frontier. She was looking out over the battlements of a castle, a heavy cloak thrown over her shift. She could hear the sounds of battle, but more importantly, she could see torches, and hear the sounds of mens' voices, men who carried scythes and spears and had deadly intentions.

She'd slipped into the body of her ancestor, the first Tatiana Strelnikov. In a chamber below her, Ilona Dracul huddled in fear on her bed, defenseless, her husband away, fighting to stave off yet another invasion from Turkey.

Tatiana ran down the endless flights of stairs it took to reach her mistress' chamber. "You must leave, now. There is no time for you to get dressed." She fetched a pair of boots and a thick wool cloak, and put them on her mistress. She pulled a bed cover from the top of the bed and rolled it up. Lastly, she took a small lamp and put it into Ilona's hand.

"You must run into the forest, as deep as you can get. Keep the lamp lit so that I can find you. Don't try to run anywhere, just run. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I know you'll be safe in the woods. Katerina will come with you so you won't be alone. Your cloak and the blanket will help keep you warm. Just trust me, I can do this. Vlad lives, I promise you. You must try to keep yourself alive for him." She kissed her and saw her to the secret staircase that led to a door that opened onto the great forest that blanketed the mountains.

Tears fell from her eyes as she watched her lady leave with her maid. Would she find safe refuge in the forest as she had before? Her lady had the sight, but was not a witch like the Strelnikova women. She had read so many omens and signs and knew Ilona's fate, but would not tell her. The villagers would make the sign against the evil eye when the Strelnikovs rode through the village, on some errand from their boyar. "Stregoica" they'd say when they saw her. "The Strelnikovs serve the devil," some said, and to some extent what they said was true. They served the Draculs because they honored a debt, and were true to their word.

And now her reputation had endangered Ilona. When she rode with her lady through the countryside, they would be met with stares that were openly hostile. Dracula ruled through fear, but that was true of all the local boyars. The peasants were superstitious, though, and had long memories. The presence of the Russian Strelnikovs who would carry out their master's orders were not welcome. The light hair and blue eyes set them too apart from the Romanians who tended to have dark hair and dark eyes. Add to that the reputation of their overlord, though the rumors and their fears were unconfirmed, and you had a recipe for unrest and eventual rebellion.

Tatiana ran up to the battlements to see the tell-tale sign of the lamp that would indicate that her mistress was making her escape into the foothills of the Transylvanian Alps. Soon, there it was, the faint, tiny light bobbing amongst the dark shadows of the trees. As long as her mistress could find a cave, or even a hollow in the trees, she might be safe. If so, Tatiana would guide her to the Bulgarian border where they could make their escape.

Looking back one time, she consigned their fate to God. Returning to her chambers, she made a small bundle of clothing so the women could wear something more substantial than their shifts. She grabbed Ilona's gold encrusted bible and some jewelry and put it deep into the bundle so that they might have something to barter for their safety. The last thing she took was another small lantern to light her way, though she knew the forest well, at night it became shadowy and confusing. Now, more than anything, she wished she did not have to make the journey through the dark woods alone.

Three loud knocks sounded at the door. She clutched her bundle close to her, hoping that she could find the secret way out of the Ilona's chamber before the guards broke through the door. Treachery, she thought, someone must have turned some of the guards and now they were helping the villagers. The pounding at the door became louder and she could hear the lintels cracking. Just before the guards broke through the door…

Tania sat up in bed, her breath coming in painful gasps. She settled back on her pillows, her hands over her heart, trying to slow its frantic beating. Wanting to scream, but not daring to, the hold of the dream still so strongly on her that she could only try to slow the painful beating of her heart.

She pulled the covers up over her, wrapping them tightly around her. It had only been a dream, after all, but the dream had seemed so real. She knew the story. Stephen Strelnikov had returned and escaped with the children. Tatiana had been caught trying to escape by the guards and a week later had been burned at the stake. Despite her efforts to save her mistress, Ilona had been seized after the treacherous Katerina revealed where some faithful villagers had sought to shelter their boyar's wife. Dracula discovered the fate of his wife too late and had only narrowly escaped death while, helplessly, he watched as his wife was burned at the stake.

She turned on her side and fell into an uneasy sleep. Soon she was back in Ilona's chamber, hearing the pounding at the door. She tried to unlock the door to the secret passage, but the pounding continued. Just when she was about to give up she woke, and found Grayson standing next to her bed.

"Tatiana, you were screaming, I was concerned," he put his cool hand on her forehead, settling her, "Are you all right now?"

She looked up at him under her long lashes, "Did they ever tell you who betrayed Ilona? I always thought you knew, now I'm not so sure. I remember Papa telling me about it, but the one element the story never seemed to have was my ancestors letting you know who was responsible for the death of your wife."

"No," said Grayson, "I always thought that she was caught by the villagers while she was trying to flee. I never knew there was more to it than that." He sat on the edge of her bed, waiting for her to tell the story.

"No, that's not what happened. Her name was Ekaterina Denisova and she was from the village. She had golden hair and the coldest blue grey eyes I've ever seen. She was so devoted to your wife, or so it seemed until the night we had to flee the castle. I thought she was going to escort Ilona to the frontier where my father was waiting for her. Instead, she led her into a trap." She paused, debating as to whether she should go on. There's someone you know who is one of her descendants. Someone who has managed to get very close to you."

"Lady Jane Wetherby," he said slowly.

"Yes, Lady Jane Wetherby." She looked at him as he got up to leave the room.

He turned, "How do you know all this, Tnia?"

"I had a dream tonight, a vision. I was Tatiana Strelnikov, the first one. We tried but never found Ekaterina after that, it was as if she disappeared. Eventually we found out her family fled to England. She didn't kill your Ilona, but her ancestress did."

Grayson left her room without another word, shutting the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Grayson strode down the hall, fighting the urge to turn around and put his hands around Tatiana's slender neck and strangle her. He was not ready to deal with the revelation she had forced upon him. Indeed, he did not know how to deal with it.

He was aware of Lady Jayne's shortcomings, but she was such a delightful partner in bed that he was willing to forgive them. No matter how tenderly he might feel towards Mina, Lady Jayne was closer to his age (when he was still a mortal man), than Lucy, Mina, or Tatiana. A woman of his generation was welcome company. Compared to Lady Jayne Wetherly, the The girls were young and callow. Lady Jayne, Lady Jayne, on the other hand, was a woman. Wetherly was a woman.

"But you suspect she is a hunter," he told himself, "And as careful as you have been, how much has she discovered about you, and how safe will you be if she discovers your secreoes find out? She will surely is obligated to inform the Council, and if so you may have to flee, leaving all you have worked for behind."

He suddenly felt a longing er for her slender, hard muscled body. Much as he desired to, he could not take her as he pleased, she had made that clear. Until such time as he decided otherwise, he must be careful in his dealings with her. One slip up, and that could be his last. His canines tingled as he imagined what it would be like to take her life in that climatical moment of ecstacy.

He needed to sleep. He lay down on his bed with its rich velvet trappings, but sleep was eluding him. He rang for Renfield, hoping that he was not in some distant part of the house. Renfield was needed now, and now was when he wanted him.

Renfield stood appeared in the doorway, waiting. "Bring Tania here, as soon as she wakes up," Grayson instructed, "The minute she wakes up bring her to me., and Iif I am sleeping, wake me." Renfield nodded his head in understanding.

Grayson's sleep could be a blank, the dreamless sleep of the vampire, or it could be full of images and dreams. Sometimes he dreaded sleep, not knowing what it would bring. Tania's presence seemed to stir up all the old nightmares which once had haunted him. New ones were being added daily as new issues popped aroseup that must be dealt with, like the seizure of the Resonator. Ilona had begun to appear in his dreams—a nightmare he had long suppressed.

But this morning the his sleep was dreamlessdreamless. He was not even nervous over what he was about to have Tatiana do, risky as it was. He needed answers that only she could provide.

A rapping sounded at the door, waking him from his sleepdreamless sleep. Tatiana stood at the door, sullen, as if she suspected what Grayson would ask her to do.

He indicated a spot on the bed, and she sat, holding her body away from him. "She knows," he thought, "She knows and she is afraid."

"Tatiana," he asked, "Can you still perform the spell summoning the Mirror Demon?"

"What if I tell you what you do not want to know, will you kill me? If I open that door it may will reveal the truth. It may give you the answer you seek, but it may only tell you what you need to know, what may come to pass. I cannot control the outcome. If you ask me to do this, be prepared to receive what you may not want." She looked at him, her cornflower blue eyes staring directly into his.

"You want me to summon a demon," her eyes told him, "Do you truly know what you ask?"

He ignored the look, he wanted only the answers. "Tell me what you need," he commanded.

She heaved a deep sigh. "Very well, I need a silver ewer, filled with fresh water, and a mirror. I also need a whilite candle in a silver holder—the candle must be made of virgin wax."

"You shall have them, Renfield will bring them. What else do you require?"

"I need a glass of brandy. I have not summoned the demon for many years, and that was under the instruction of my mother." She lay down on the bed and was suddenly asleep, and Grayson could not wake her. She woke, as if waking from the spell of a mesmeristShe sat on the bed, seeming to stare at something he could not see. "I do not wish to do this," her body language seemed to say, "I know I cannot tell you, but I am afraid."

Renfield stood at the door, his arms holding the things she requested. She placed the ewer on the bed, laying the mirror next to it. Books were found to steady the candle in its holder. Grayson watched in fascination as she began to blow gently on the wick until the flame flared up, burning brightly enough to light the chamber.

"When I hold out my hand, you must take it," she told him, . "Do not let go, no matter what. wWait for me to release yours or the spell will be broken too soon. No matter what you hear, no matter what you see, you must not let go of my hand. All the others must leave the room and the door must be shut." She looked at Renfield and he bowed and shut the door behind him.

She picked up the mirror and held it so that the light of the candle was reflected in her blue eyes. She began to breathe deeply, sighing, seeming to sink more and more into a trance with the image of the flame reflected into her eyes.

The mirror began to suddenly glow brightly, the a ray of light issuing from from it, illuminating Tania's face. She reached out her hand and Grayson took it, surprised now at the power of her grasp. He tried to pull away, but she kept his hand imprisoned in hers. She opened her mouth and uttered some words he could not understand, then dropped the mirror onto the bed.

Smoke began to rise up from the water in the ewer as it began to boil in the mirror furiously. Still hold maintaining the deathly grip on his hand, she stared into it, and then Grayson saw the water stir clear and then images begin to form.

She was right. He was not seeing what he had wanted to see. He saw the image of Castle Dracul and the soldiers milling around, torches in their hand. He tried to look away, but her grip on his hand tightened, crushing it. He looked at her and no longer recognized the young Russian girl, her features were now contorted into a parody of the girl he knew. She had successfully summoned the Mirror Demon.

He looked again at the water, and saw the image of Ilona tied to the stake, flames surrounding her. Was it an illusion, or could he actually hear her screams as the fire ate at her body.

Just when he thought he could bear it no more, he watched in fascination as the Ilona he had loved slowly transformed into the Mina he was coming to love. She started to step down from the stake, holding out her hand, but when he found himself reaching out to take it, Harker was there, too, waiting as did he. Mina looked from one to the other, torn, not knowing who to choose. A dagger of gold, pure gold, appeared in her hand. She grasped it with two hands and began to lower it, as if she would plunge it into her heart.

Suddenly the image of Mina/Ilona was obscured by a giant cloud, and mthe Resonator stood where the stake had been before, resplendent in its steel and glass glory. The turbines began to hum, then spin at a dizzying rate, glowing in their glass casing. The light became brighter and brighter as then the tower began to grow. and Grayson watched as it became a very cathedral, lit with a light of its own. He stood found himself standing at its foot, and watchinged as it grew and outgrew the room that held it. It grew so great that it burst the glass ceiling, and the awesome beauty overcame him as he watched his creation become something beyond anything he could have envisioned.

"Now do you see?" asked the Tatiana thing, and she suddenly released his hand and collapsed onto the bed. Ever the superstitious Romanian, he left everything exactly as it was, mirror, candle, ewer.

He watched her as the deep sleep overtook her. He called for glasses of brandy both for Tania and himself. When she woke he put the glass in her hand, and said nothing until she spoke.

"So, did the mirror tell you what you wanted to know?" She waited for him to answer, as if she knew that it hadn't.

"It told me something, but not enough. It said nothing of the Order of the Dragon, or of Lady Jayne."

"But you did not tell me that you wished to know of them, Boyar, so the mirror only told you what it thought important to you. Perhaps you have the power to defeat the Order, but you do not know it. Maybe you already know how you will deal with Lady Jayne."

"But it did not show me the fate of Mina. She held a dagger in her hands, a gold dagger, as if she would plunge it into her heart. What did that mean?"

The smile on Tania's face showed both pity and derision. "Think, Boyar, think of what you learned when you studies alchemy. What is the purist of the base metals?"

"Gold, of course, gold is the purest of all the metals." He looked at her, not knowing where this was going.

"And is not the heart of your Mina pure gold, as was that of Ilona that was? "

"Ilona had the purest heart and gentlest soul of any human that I ever knew. What do you mean by all this, Tania."

"Just as the dagger was of purest gold, so is the heart of Mina. She must make the choice of whom it will be who is most worthy of her. I believe that she cares for you, but she will must choose who is the most worthy of her love and trust. Boyar, I do not believe that this can be you, but if you want her, you must take her soon, now, while she wavers. Your Ilona was pure gold, so is Mina. Maybe the truest way you can show your love for her is to step out of her life. That is not for me to decide, I am your servant, only. You must look deep into your heart to find the answer." She turned and left the room, leaving him to his thoughts.


End file.
